


Numb

by MoonBeam95



Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 01:00:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18063545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonBeam95/pseuds/MoonBeam95
Summary: When Ben died it was sudden, one day he was there he next he wasn't. And that, that left it's mark. You didn't think seeing him again could break you any further. You were wrong.





	Numb

Numb

By:Moon-Bream95

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy 

Pairing: Ben Hargreeves x Reader

  
  


You and Ben had been together since you were mere teens. You lived on the same street, next door in fact and it was everything a teen romance should be. Well, almost everything. The moves don't usually have the love of one's life meeting a violent end. But, then again, not everyone's love interest used to be a superhero. That's right, you heard me, Ben was one of 6,  _ cough *7* cough _ , students of The Umbrella Academy, a crime fighting squad with powers. And your Ben had the strangest of all, a monster hidden within that he could summon anytime and manifest tentacles via his chest cavity.

 

The first time you saw his power in action you were sat in your room watching as he paced nervously. It was terrifying, not his powers but him, his face scrunched up, body coiled, knuckles turning white from shear force and he began to sweat profusely. He looked like he was in immeasurable pain and that to you was far more important than any extra appendages. So when you flung your arms around him, mindful of his tentacles, and told him this the look you received in return was one of intense wonderment. And, when you interacted with them it began to border on awe, it was that night you had your first kiss.

 

Now normally you'd scoff at girls who were swept away by romance, whose relationship progressed far too fast, but when it was you in that position it seemed natural. It wasn't forced, you'd been friends since childhood and your love for him had just been a foregone conclusion, from that of a friend to that of a romantic partner. You cannot pinpoint when it happened, it simply just was.

 

When he died everything felt wrong. You found yourself waiting by the window where he would sneak through every night. Or catch yourself turning to speak to him and breakdown in realisation. But, you had Klaus, sweet lonely Klaus, who pushed his grief aside to help you, a boy who was probably far more heartbroken at his brothers passing and far more traumatised due to being there when it happened. He was a far better friend than you deserved and it was these moments sat helping and sharing that you saw what Ben had seen. Klaus’s heart, his potential.

 

It took a long time but you began to move on, grow up. You had too, but nothing felt completely right again. You did what was expected of you, you went to school, attempted date set-ups. You smiled and laughed in all the right places all the while wondering why these people who claimed to love you could not see that you were drowning. Screaming out into a world that did not give a shit.

 

You and Klaus continued to be close friends, a friendship born from a desperate attempt to keep Ben close. You both however, came to care dearly for each other, and when you sat huddled in the dark neither had to pretend. You spoke of your emptiness, a feeling of disconnect with the rest of the world, as if you were an outsider watching a series of events. And when Klaus confessed his powers, what his dad did to him and the need of drugs to make it all go away, you sat and held him raging internally at the man who moved his children like pawns.

 

It was this bond that you shared that led to him calming you, grounding you when the dissonance you felt became too much, when you felt like a passenger in your own body. To you cleaning him up after a drug filled binge, desperately trying to help. But, you both knew the real reason neither of you reached out for help. A lack of motivation. What reason other than each other did you have to get better? Who would actually help, when others told you in your moment of grief that you needed to smile more and for god sakes can't you just be happy? Or, Klaus, who actually managed to work up the courage to enter rehab only to be treated like just another body, no one actually showing him the tools to cope.

 

You were sat one night at your cluttered desk mindlessly reading sheet after sheet. Homework was a bitch. You'd think that the older you got the less you have but no, even as a PhD student you still had fuck tons. It was here, rereading yet again about Medieval Poets that you felt a tell tale breeze followed your window creaking open and a lithe figure clambered through.

 

Swirling on your chair, internally cheering at the distraction, you surveyed him and gave a small sigh of relief. He looked better than last time, when he was covered in blood smelling of sweat and grime muttering about Dave. Don't get me wrong he looked far from ok but you'd take what you could get. As the saying goes, slow and steady wins the race.

 

Dropping your pencil you asked, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

 

Nervousness bloomed in the recess of your mind as he didn't give his usual snarky reply but instead perched himself on the end of your bed and stared at you rather seriously face  laden with guilt.

 

“Klaus,” you began tentatively, “what’s wrong?”

 

He took a steadying breath, hand clutching the bed. “My powers have err somewhat grown recently.”

 

Your mouth dropped open, this could either be very good or very bad. You knew how Klaus felt about his powers, the toll they took. “Ok?”

 

“The ghosts,” he started, “I can touch them, make them real.”

 

You squeal, “That’s brilliant.”

 

“Yeah,” he said, “Brilliant.”

 

You quirk a brow but he doesn't answer, his body goes taught, face one of extreme concentration and you gasp in surprise as a figure fades into existence.

 

You raise a hand to cover your mouth, eyes unable to take in what they were seeing. You became dimly aware that you had reached out a shaking hand, flinching as the figure took it before letting out a sob as he pressed it against his chest, breathing out a broken - 

 

“Ben.”

 

He gives a sad smile and walked closer, slowly so as not to spook, never dropping your hand.

 

“Y/N.”

 

Tears poured down your face, how many times had you dreamt this? He was here, you could literally reach out and touch him. Your mind whirled, when something occurred to you.

 

“How, how long has Klaus been able to see you?”

 

“Since the day I died.”

 

You whip round betrayal evident in your expression. “And you didn't think to say anything?” 

 

He doesn't answer but Ben does, he places his hand,  _ oh god _ , on your shoulders drawing you back to him. “I asked him not to.”

 

“Why?”

 

“You were already struggling, it would have killed you. Killed me, to see you, not being able to talk to you, touch you, kiss you.”

 

“And now, cos from the sounds of it this” you say gesturing between the two of you “Isn't a permanent thing.”

 

He brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. “I guess for once I wanted to be selfish, I had to take this. I love you.”

 

You hiccup, “love you.”

 

H smirks, shrugging a shoulder, “I am pretty lovable.”

 

You let out wet sob, you've missed  _ this _ and whack his chest.

 

“Yikes, violent woman.”

 

He reaches a hand to caress your face before leaning in to place a kiss to your lips. Just as his lips brush yours he fades and you stumble forwards landing on you knees. Tears runs down you face, as you let out a keening wail, fisting the carpet below.

 

_ Ben _

 

Klaus gives a tired groan and slides off the bed to kneel beside your trembling form.

 

“I’m sorry, that's all I could do”

 

You stop him from apologising, none of this was his fault and give him a watery smile, he’d given you a great gift the least you could do was put him at ease. So pushing aside the numbness that was creeping alarmingly fast through you body you tell him -

 

“Thank you.”

 

His phone rings and he reluctantly leaves, throwing a paring glance your way. You follow him to the window, leaning out watching him sprint down the alley between your houses, eyes staring blankly ahead.

 

_ Goodbye Ben. _


End file.
